


Slave to Desire

by LoveLoveLovix



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: AU, F/F, I haven't actually seen rebellion, Mind Control, Post-Rebellion Story, not sex noncon, this was a prompt pls don't blame me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4037683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveLoveLovix/pseuds/LoveLoveLovix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One thousand Madokas can do whatever Homucifer orders. Only one can make her feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slave to Desire

**Author's Note:**

> This may not fit into canon. It was a prompt and I have not yet seen Rebellion. Please feel free to critique, but if something contradicts canon, assume it's an AU! :p

There was something that she had read once, when she was human, in the sequel to a popular children’s classic. It was something along the lines of “love is not an emotion.”

As she was now, the devil that used to be Homura Akemi could easily vouch for that. 

A million Madoka Kanames existed in her daily life, created through endless power to entertain their mistress, and though she found each and every one of them easy to love, she cared for none. She had long since separated herself from sentiment, allowing herself to be swept away in the feelings of pure bliss and adoration, allowing each clone to become nothing more but an object, one meant both to worship her and to be worshiped by her. If the truest of the Madokas was in their ranks, Homucifer had long since lost track of which one it was.

After all, if only one was living out a peaceful ideal, that was enough. Homucifer was allowed to be selfish. Selfishness, after all, was the nature of who she was.

Smiling at the thought, she grabbed the nearest Madoka. “Dance with me,” she ordered aloud, though she needed no words. 

Some days, she allowed the Madokas to act like themselves. “Homura-chan,” whispered the clone, “You’re so forward! I-I…” she stuttered.

“Stop protesting,” the demon hissed softly. Madoka being Madoka was normally acceptable, encouraged, but something about it… seemed wrong today. She felt like even her endless love was being tested. “Just do it.”

And the devil was swept up, off her feet even. Madoka’s soft, warm hands were perfectly created to take the lead. Homucifer didn’t have to think, only let herself feel the closest thing to happiness as she could get.

After what might have been a minute and might have been a thousand years, they stopped. “Embrace me,” Homucifer said, biting her lip.  _What am I doing? It’s like… before._ There was no apparent reason for her to act like a human, so why did this situation make her so dizzy?

The Madoka wrapped her arms around the devil. “Homura-chan!” she exclaimed. “You don’t seem yourself. Is something wrong?”

When even the constructed clones noticed, then yes, something was.

Homucifer stared blankly into space, focusing on nothing. With nothing in particular to look at, she could see hundreds of Madokas, slaves to the devil’s desire. 

It was somehow disgusting. A completely warped version of what she thought she had wanted all along… a girl, a  _singular_ girl, a  _divine_  girl, all to herself.

Homucifer waved a hand, and all the clones disappeared. 

The only Madoka left… perhaps the truest… was the one who was wrapped around her.

“Be Madoka again,” whispered Homucifer… Homura… someone.

Madoka smiled softly. “I’m always myself. Silly.”

“Don’t take orders from me.”

“If that’s what you want.”

That was exactly not what she wanted. “If I tell you to kiss me, what will you say?”

“That’s also very forward of you, Homura-chan.”

“Will you do it?”

Madoka leaned towards her former best friend, her current mistress, the devil, love incarnate. She smiled. 

Then, their lips brushed.

The soft kiss was one of true love, Homucifer could tell. It was also born of regret, sadness, and maybe a hint of hope. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she half asked, half commanded.

“I was hoping…” Ah, yes, the hope was correct. “…that you would never go back to being what you were before. That you would always be content to be like you are. Because you have family and friends that love you.”

Homucifer blinked at the words, the sentiment, vaguely familiar and not at all welcome. Everything came rushing back: why she couldn’t be just Homura; why she had to be divine and powerful. It was all for Madoka. And maybe just a bit for Homura herself.

“Stop hoping,” she ordered.

And as Madoka became puppet-like and pliable once again, Homucifer realized that to tell her that was to tell her to not be herself.


End file.
